


Ring of Stones

by An_Odd_Idea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Little bit of Irondad, Lord Of The Rings AU, Ned Leeds Is Awesome, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Protective Tony Stark, Whump, more tags to be added probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24107446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_Odd_Idea/pseuds/An_Odd_Idea
Summary: Peter is a young Hobbit from the Shire.  When his aunt’s magic ring turns his world upside down, he and his friends, old and new, find themselves at the center of a struggle to save Middle Earth from the greatest threat it has ever faced.Or, the Lord of the Rings AU nobody asked for.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Shuri, Michelle Jones & Natasha Romanoff, Michelle Jones & Shuri, Peter Parker & Michelle Jones, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Stephen Strange, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Michelle Jones, Tony Stark & Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Comments: 11
Kudos: 10





	Ring of Stones

**Author's Note:**

> This is by far the most ambitious fanfic I’ve ever undertaken, as well as the most personally important to me. I worked long and hard just figuring out characters, please don’t yell at me about them.
> 
> This story takes place in Middle Earth, but Peter and friends talk like they’re from modern times so it isn’t weird.
> 
> Peter and his Hobbit friends are about 20, which we will pretend for the sake of the story is considered technically adult for Hobbits. Also Doctor Strange cannot make portals, or this story would be over quick.

The green door in the hillside squeaked.

It always squeaked, always the same tone, in the same place against the floor. May had meant to get that fixed for years now, but Peter had grown to like it. It felt familiar, like a little “welcome home” from the house itself.

Today, all except for the squeak of the door, the little house built into the hill was quiet. Peter stepped inside and shut the door after himself.

“May, I’m home!” he called out.

It was dark in the kitchen and the living room, and Peter put his bag down quietly on the table before tiptoeing to May’s bedroom door.

“May?”

“Come in, sweetie,” her voice came through the door.

It was dark in the bedroom, too, but Peter could see her lying down and crept to her side.

“Is it bad today?”

“Just a little bad.” She smiled at him, but her voice sounded heavy, like it was too tired to work properly. “Was work okay?”

“It was good. Mrs. Jones wants to know how you’re doing.”

“Tell her I’m fine,” said May. “It had been such a good week before this, I almost thought...” She trailed off and smiled at him again. “Anyway. How’s her daughter?”

Peter’s face felt hot. “May!”

“Silly, I know you like her.”

Peter blushed harder. “Well, she flipped me off today.”

May raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like love.”

“It was in a nice way.”

“I’m sure,” May laughed, but her eyes were tired again.

“I’ve got dinner,” said Peter. “You rest.”

Thank you.” May squeezed his hand. “I’ll be better tomorrow.”

The little kitchen was cozy, but not too hot, even in the warm evening. Peter put a cup of rice on to boil and started to chop the vegetables Ned had given him. (“These are for May from my mom. Well actually the cauliflower’s mine since I’m the only one who knows how to not kill it, but the rest are from my mom.”) 

After a moment’s thought, he went out to the little garden for mint leaves to make tea as well. Tea helped people when they were sick, and that was a fact. That was what Ben had always said, anyway, and Peter was inclined to believe it, even years later. Honey was good for sick people, too, and he added some of their small supply, just to make it that much better.

They ate dinner in the bedroom that night, May sitting up against her pillows, and Peter in a chair beside the bed, and then later she felt good enough to ask Peter for wording advice on a part of her book that just wouldn’t read correctly. Peter had heard all of the stories before, and he still believed them just as much as he had as a child. Ben has always believed May’s stories, and besides that, she still had the magic ring she had found which she wore on a chain around her neck, “to remember everything by.” Peter had never seen it do anything remotely special, but if May said it was magical, it surely was.

He cleaned the dishes and went to check on May one last time. She lay on her side, gazing at the ring with a strange expression, and startled slightly when he came in.

“Sorry,” said Peter quickly.

“It’s all right.” May’s smile was tired again. “I’m just remembering.”

“I think I’m going to bed now,” said Peter.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” May sat up just enough to kiss him on the cheek when he bent down for her.

Peter blew out the lamp and went to his own room.

...

May was better the next day, Friday, but still not well enough to go out. She often wasn’t, those days, but she always told Peter not to worry.

“I’ll be even better soon,” she said. “Just you wait. When I’m well, I’ll take you to visit the Elves.”

“I’d like that,” said Peter, as always.

“Peter are you coming?” Ned knocked on the door again.

“I gotta go.”

“I know,” said May. “Love you!”

“Love you, too!”

Peter hurried out the door.

“Dude, did you hear?” said Ned as they walked along the dirt road. “They’re seeing the lights in the woods at Bywater again, and there’s more of them now.”

“Does anybody know what they are yet?”

“Nope. Not the Elves, though.”

“I think it’s Rangers.”

Ned looked quizzical. “Are you sure they’re a thing?”

“Well, Doctor Strange said they are, at least.”

“What do they even do, though?”

Peter shrugged. “Protect the world or something, I don’t know.”

“But what does it...”

Quick footsteps grew closer behind them, and Peter glanced over his shoulder. “Flash,” he muttered.

“Great.”

“Off to do your sewing, Parker?” Flash teased.

Ned scowled, and Peter nudged his shoulder slightly.

“Going to make yourself a nice bonnet and embroider daisies on the edge?” Flash went on, grinning.

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Well at least Peter does something useful! You just mess around all day,” said Ned.

“Ned, it’s fine.”

Not finished, Ned pushed past him and pointed at Flash, the most aggressively Peter had seen him move. “Go sprout a cabbage.”

The utter confusion on Flash’s face would have been worthy of a painting, but sadly it only lasted for a split second. He laughed, shrugged, and took off again on his way, over the bridge and past the old mill, calling out to a passing girl as he went.

“Go sprout a cabbage?” said Peter.

Ned turned back to him. “That didn’t make any sense, did it?”

“Who _says_ that?”

“Nobody yet! I just made it up.” Ned straightened his shoulders. “I don’t know what it means yet, but it sounds kinda good, I think.”

“Sure.” Peter nudged his shoulder again as they walked. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“He’s mean to you for no reason.”

“He’s just annoying. I don’t even care, much.”

“Yeah,” said Ned. “Hey, if you ever do make a bonnet with daisies, get May’s wizard friend to curse it so it never comes undone and put it on Flash next time.”

Doctor Strange would never waste time on such a thing, not that Peter would dare to ask him, but he grinned. “Dude, you’re _evil_!”

“When I take over the world, you’ll be second in command of my army of darkness.”

“Only if you have cookies.”

“What’re you talking about?” Ned feigned offense. “You think I’d try to run an evil empire without cookies?”

They had reached the porch of Mrs. Jones’s tailor shop, a pleasant little building at the corner of the road beside the old bridge. It was a beautiful morning, and the front window was open to let in the fresh air.

“Sup losers?” MJ stuck her head out the window.

“Hi MJ.” Ned gave her a full-faced smile.

Peter offered a wave.

“You’d better not be late today,” said MJ, fixing Ned with a stern look as she climbed out the open window onto the narrow porch.

“There’s a door?” said Ned, helpless.

“Doors are overrated.” MJ opened the door. “Come on, my mom needs help pinning.”

“See you!” Ned waved and ran off down the road, toward Harrington’s field.

MJ still held the door open, and Peter made the split-second decision to duck under her arm rather than go around her, to avoid keeping her waiting. It was a bad one. MJ was tall for a Hobbit-girl, but Peter still had to bend awkwardly low and squeeze his arms close to his sides to avoid brushing against her or getting caught on the door. He felt her eyes on him, and his face heated.

“Different technique.” She gave him an appraising look. “Welcome to the rebellion.”

“Thanks.” Peter offered her what he was certain was a real smile this time, backed up, and promptly tripped over a bolt of fabric on the floor.

...

Sewing came easily to Peter. He wasn’t as good as May- not yet, anyway- but her teaching had come in handy now that he worked at the Jones’s shop in her place. With all the practice he’s been getting, he could almost sew buttons as fast as MJ now. (Almost. Not that he would tell her if he could.)

While they worked, MJ caught Peter up on her latest suspicions, from the Chitauri nest hidden under the mill to the hidden evils of doors. He listened, and only pricked his finger once.

The day went by quickly- Friday always did- and they helped Mrs. Jones close up the shop for the late afternoon.

“Coming?” said MJ.

“I thought you didn’t like doors.”

She shrugged. “I changed my mind.”

They walked outside together, and MJ hopped up on the wide stone railing of the old bridge. Peter followed her, keeping his arms extended slightly for balance. A cart rumbled past, vibrating the old stone under their feet, and MJ swayed slightly. Without thinking, Peter’s hands shot out to catch hold of her waist, making her gasp and jump hard enough to almost send them both tumbling into the water.

“Sorry!” Peter held on tighter to regain his balance.

MJ grinned at him over her shoulder. “Scared, Peter?”

“No!” He let go quickly. “I thought you were falling.”

“Psh, I never fall.” MJ kept walking along the rail.

“I saw you fall out of a tree last winter.”

“I jumped.”

“You broke your arm.”

“I jumped. On accident. And the ground was there.”

They hopped down on the other side and continued to the end of the road, to the red oval-shaped door in the hillside. Peter knocked, and Ned opened it, coughing. A small cloud of greenish smoke billowed out with him.

“Wow,” said MJ. “Usually we wait until we’re all here before things blow up.”

“That was an accident, and I might never be allowed near an open flame again,” said Ned. “Come on.”

They followed him inside, where the smoke was thicker despite the open windows.

“Good, you’re here!” said Shuri, barely looking up from the metal contraption on the hearth. “This idiot nearly burned down my workshop, as you can see.”

“Just a little bit!” Ned protested.

“Come on, come look!” Shuri beckoned them over. “I figured it out. You see, if you turn this here...” She turned a small valve on the side of the monstrosity they had been building, and a small hiss sounded. “You decrease the pressure here, increase it there, and...”

The thing lurched to life with a rough screech of metal, raising an arm a few inches before it dropped again.

“There!” said Shuri triumphantly.

“That’s exactly what I did!” Ned yelled from the kitchen.

“You turned it too far!” Shuri shouted back. “I haven’t found a way to stabilize it yet, look.”

Ned came back in, trailing a faint smell of butter and sugar from the kitchen, and the four crowded around the “hand-pincher,” as they called it in the absence of a more suitable name, to examine the lifting mechanism. For the next hour, the workshop was full of cheerful chaos, full of voices and the clatter of metal and the hiss of steam from the hand-pincher. There was some debate as to what it would become, but at this stage it was merely an experiment. “To find out what works,” they always said.

When they got tired of tinkering, and after Peter had knocked three things over that combined into a horrifically sticky substance that kept him briefly stuck to the table, they wiped the dust and oil from their hands and went to the kitchen to arrange themselves across various countertops and floors and eat cookies fresh out of the oven.

“How’s May this week?” said Shuri, making a grab for a crumb of cookie before it could fall to the floor. 

“Better today,” said Peter. “Yesterday was bad, though.”

“Do you still not know what’s wrong with her?” said MJ.

“Nope.” Peter rubbed a crumb between his fingers. “She thinks she’s getting better for real, though, so that’s good.” He felt tired talking about it, but he brightened at a new thought. “We should go to Bywater on Sunday and find out about the lights.”

They all agreed, and Ned stared forlornly after the cookie that had broken off and fallen into his glass of milk.

...

Peter did not go to Bywater on Sunday. May was so ill that he couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone, so he stayed with her, bringing her tea and reading aloud to distract her when she was awake and tiptoeing around the house when she wasn’t. 

A knock at the door startled him. Surely Ned and MJ and Shuri wouldn’t be back yet, and even if they were, Peter had told them how bad May was feeling and they wouldn’t want to disturb. He went to the door and opened it anyway, starting in surprise at the person on the mat.

“Doctor Strange?”

Peter had only met the wizard a few times before, but he recognized him easily by his long red cloak and the intricate brass eye on a cord around his neck. 

“Peter.” Despite his usual solemn tone, Strange’ blue eyes twinkled, and he gave  
one of his rare smiles.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming,” said Peter, hurrying to open the door wider. “May’s not feeling well today, but you can come in if you want and I’ll tell her you’re here.”

The wizard ducked to step inside.

“Can I take your cloak for you?” said Peter, trying to hide his eagerness. Despite May’s stories, he had never seen it behave as anything other than an ordinary cloak, and he was still just as wildly curious as he had been as a child.

“No thank you. You said your aunt was ill?”

“Yeah, she’s been sick for a while, but it’s extra bad today. It kinda comes and goes like that.”

“Peter?” May called from the bedroom.

“Hang on,” said Peter. He hurried down the hall and stuck his head inside. “Doctor Strange is here.”

“ _Here_?” May’s eyes widened, and she pulled herself upright against her pillows with an effort. “Well tell him to come in!”

Peter scurried back to where Strange was still standing awkwardly bent over in the entryway. “She says come in. I can bring you both tea if you want, I just put some on.”

“Thank you.” The wizard brushed past him and strode quickly down the the hall.

“Strange!” Peter heard May exclaim, weakly, but much stronger than anything she had said all day. “You could have warned me, you know!”

“It’s good to see you, May.”

A chair scraped across the floor, and Peter felt a bit bad for the tall man having to sit in one of their little chairs.

May was laughing slightly. “Look at me, still in bed in the middle of the day.”

“I’ve seen you worse.”

“And I’ve seen you better.”

Peter went back to the kitchen, trying not to eavesdrop. He watched the teakettle for the first hints of steam and couldn’t help but overhear parts of the conversation.

“...don’t want him to worry, but when he sees me like this... feel thin, stretched...”

May had described her illness to Peter that way before: like being stretched too far and having to use all her energy just to stay together. He poured the tea and carried it into May’s room, and both older adults abruptly stopped talking and were silent until he left again.

Then their voices started up again. “Elves... can’t leave...”

Surely Doctor Strange would be hungry after traveling from... wherever he came from. Peter hummed to himself, opening kitchen cabinets and setting down pots and pans more loudly than usual to drown out the two voices. They sounded anxious, and it made a cold, tight place grow under his heart as well.

After a short while, the voices stopped, and Strange came back out to the living room, still having to bend under the low ceiling. He sat down at the earliest opportunity.

“You you’re still kind of a doctor, right? A little bit?” Peter fumbled with his hands. “Can you help her?”

“Unfortunately, no. But I know people who can.”

“The Elves?” said Peter.

Strange gave him a look.

“Sorry. I was listening, a little,” said Peter. “And she always talked about going to see them again, so I thought maybe.”

“You thought right,” said Strange.

Peter frowned. “But she’ll have to leave?”

“For a while.”

It was a foreign thought. “Sorry.” Peter stood up, headed for May’s room.

“She’s asleep again,” said Doctor Strange.

Peter sat back down with a huff. “We still have eggs if you want them.”

...

Walking home from Ned’s in the dusk of a few nights later, Peter stopped on the path up to the green door. Something was wrong. The air felt tense, and he began to move slowly, practically creeping up his own front walk. He paused again outside the window, hearing raised voices.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted it.” That was May, accusing.

“I don’t.” That was Strange, supposedly helping her pack.

“Well good, because you’re not getting it.” May’s voice rose slightly. “Do I need to remind you who found it?”

“I don’t want to interfere...”

“Then don’t. It’s none of your business!”

Peter opened the door to find May leaning against the wall near it, arms crossed. Doctor Strange sat in a chair on the other side of the room, looking tired. The air felt so thick that Peter was almost afraid to move.

“Hi May,” he said cautiously.

She jumped. “Peter, honey!” She hurried to kiss him on the cheek. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Are you okay?” he asked in a low voice.

“Okay?” May gave him a smile. “We’re fine, sweetie. Everything’s fine.”

After he went to bed, Peter lay awake, straining his ears to hear what the two voices in the kitchen were saying. They were low, but he caught most of it.

“I don’t know what came over me,” said May. “It’ve been so tired and felt so thin lately, but I never thought I would snap like that.”

“It’s not your fault.” Strange’s voice was slow and quiet.

Peter barely caught May’s next words. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”

“You’ll be well soon,” said Strange. “In the meantime, you need to let it go.”

May whispered whatever she said next too softly for even Peter to hear.

“No, not like that,” said Strange. “I think it may not be helping your condition, but it he’s healthy. He’s lived in this house with it and never been affected before, has he?”

Peter frowned. The voices in the kitchen blurred together, less apprehensive now and strangely soothing, and he fell asleep.

...

“I’ll be fine,” said Peter, for what he felt must certainly be the twelfth time that day alone.

“I know.” May smiled- today was a good day- but it was a sad smile. “I just worry.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore,” said Peter. “Besides, Mrs. Leeds still thinks I am, too, and she’ll look out for me.”

May chuckled. “I know, you’ll be fine. But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” said Peter. “We’ll write though, and you’ll be back soon.”

Doctor Strange must have caught May’s eye somewhere behind him, because she looked past him, frowning slightly. “Envelope, kitchen table.” She smiled at Peter again and ruffled his hair. “Of course.”

Strange’s heavy footsteps returned from the kitchen, and something about them made Peter turn. The air felt tense like it had a few nights before.

“Peter?” May wasn’t smiling anymore. Instead, she looked strangely frightened, her hand clutched around the magic ring on its chain. “Peter I have to...”

“May?”

May quickly undid the chain, and it jingled in her hand. She offered Peter a tight smile. “Keep this safe for me?”

“Your ring?”

She opened her hand like her joints had turned to rusted iron. “Take it.” Her voice grew sharp.

“What’s going on?”

“Peter.”

The ring’s weight was startling. Peter had hardly touched it before, and it seemed heavier than something so small should be. He jumped at May’s sharp intake of breath, and the way her fingers twitched like they wanted to close around it again. 

He squeezed it tight in his hand. “Are you okay?”

May let out a breath and smiled gently at him again. “I’m fine, sweetheart.” She smoothed a curl off his forehead. “Just worried for you, all alone.”

Peter made himself laugh. “May, we already said, I won’t be alone!”

May’s eye’s traveled to his hand, and he clenched it harder around the ring.

“I’ve seen what you and your friends get up to in that workshop.” May scowled playfully, back to herself again. “Don’t let them try that here and burn my house down.”

“I won’t.”

“I know you won’t.” May hugged him tight and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, May.”

Peter walked with her out the door and helped her up to the front seat of the wagon. Doctor Strange followed them outside and paused beside Peter, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Take care of that ring. Never put it on.”

Peter nodded.

Strange climbed up beside May and clicked to the horse, and the wagon rumbled into motion. Peter stood at the end of the path until they went out of sight around the bend in the road. Then he went back into the house, his heart a little heavy at the emptiness.

The ring was still clutched tight in his hand, and the chain had left an imprint on his skin. It was a lovely ring, he thought, perfectly round and not even scratched, even though May had guessed it must be ancient. Without even thinking, Peter let his finger trace over the smooth gold.

Now he was just being weird. He shook himself and fastened the chain with the ring around his neck, closing the green door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, or come visit me on tumblr @an-odd-idea


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